


Safe

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Kinda Fluffy, Stora, crossposted from tumblr, sorry idk what the Stora tag is on here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-07
Updated: 2013-08-07
Packaged: 2017-12-22 17:43:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/916173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cora recovers from whatever was done to her and goes to thank Stiles for saving her back at the hospital. Things don't exactly go as planned, but neither Cora  nor Stiles are complaining.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safe

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my babe, Tes. Cross-posted from my tumblr.

Stiles is used to his window being utilized far more than his door. At this point, he anticipates it, really. Scott, Derek, Isaac, sometimes even Peter. He figures they all prefer it so they don’t have to try to explain to the town’s sheriff why they’re visiting his son at odd hours, or in the case of Derek and Peter, why they’re visiting at all. Yeah, he’s pretty used to his window being used as a door. But this is the first time he’s ever heard it creak open without any knocking, the first time a voice called out tentatively for him, as if they couldn’t come in. And it was definitely the first time it was Cora Hale at his window.

“Stiles?” she calls softly, unsure if he was asleep or just lying on his bed aimlessly. “Stiles, can I come in?”

Stiles shot up, arms flailing to try to make up for the swiftness of his actions -- and failing. With a hard thump, he hit the floor before standing up just as quickly as he’d fallen. After hardly half a second’s worth of hesitating, he rushes to the window, easing  it up the rest of the way and propping it open before holding his hand out to Cora to help her in.

“Hey, what’s wrong, what’s happening?”

Cora flushes and huffs a laugh. “Nothing’s wrong. I just...Derek said I should use your window at this hour in case your dad was home, or in case you were sleeping. I just wanted to...”

Stiles drifts back to his bed, sitting on the edge, watching with a tinge of amusement as Cora fumbles, clearly uncertain about something. Which, honestly, was a first for her. From the moment Stiles met Cora Hale, she had been nothing but harsh tones, immediate actions, and fluid movement. Yet, here she is, standing in his bedroom, hands wringing, face flush, and toes tapping.

“Would you sit down, Cora? You’re gonna give me a second-hand panic attack here, the way you’re fidgeting.” He gestures toward her person in general, and then toward the chairs still in the center of his room from their ill-fated attempt to tell his father about the world of lycanthropes.

Instead, Cora crosses the room to where Stiles is sitting, and plops down right next to him, their legs flush against each other. “Fine, okay, I’m sitting. Now stop mocking me and just listen to what I’m here to say.”

“All ears, you have my undivided attention,” Stiles says, genuinely interested now, and trying his hardest to not focus on the warmth radiating through her pantleg and into his own.

“Derek told me what happened at the hospital the night of the storm, and Peter filled in the gaps Derek didn’t know about due to being stuck in the elevator.” Her eyes are downcast, head tilted toward her lap, focusing on her fingers playing at the hem of her shirt. “Neither of them is entirely sure how you kept me alive and safe all by yourself, but I remember bits and  pieces, and I just....” She pauses, looking up into Stiles’s eyes. “I wanted to say thank you.”

Stiles stares at her disbelievingly for a moment, shocked into silence, if only because this was a Hale saying thank you. Not exactly what he was used to with that particular family, that’s for sure. Usually it was some snark about how if he hadn’t been in the way to begin with, there wouldn’t be any saving needed, blah blah blah. But never a thank you.

“I...you’re welcome? I mean, I wasn’t going to let you die. I couldn’t help fight, but keeping someone safe? That was something I could do.” Stiles laughs awkwardly, wondering what pieces of the night she remembered.

As if she could read his thoughts, Cora spoke again, softly this time. “I remember one thing from the ambulance.”

“Oh?” This time it was Stiles’s face that was flush, and eyes that were downcast.

“I remember you giving me mouth to mouth. And I remember you saying that the next time your lips touched my mouth....” She trailed off, and for a moment, Stiles thought she was waiting for him to finish the sentence.

Before he had a chance, however, her hands were softly ghosting over his face, one under his chin, one tucking behind his ear, tilting his head up toward hers. She hesitated, her eyes searching his, and, not sensing any bad signals, she leaned in pressing her lips to Stiles’s.

The kiss is chaste, dry, his chapped and over-wrought lips dragging roughly over her smooth, small ones. They break apart after a few seconds, Stiles’s wide eyes show his shock, while his pupils give away his arousal. Cora’s eyes are closed, and her breathing has become laboured. Without a second thought, Stiles pulls her in and presses their mouths together again, this time rougher, more intense.

Slowly, the kiss builds in urgency, teeth nipping at lips, tongues pressing roughly into each other. Cora quickly swings her legs over Stiles’s lap into a straddling position and grips at both sides of his face, leaning down into the kiss with as much force as she can manage, given she’s still recovering from her ailment. Stiles’s hands take on a life of their own, one snaking its way  into Cora’s hair, the other gripping her at her waist, hard enough to bruise -- were she not a werewolf with remarkable healing powers.

Eventually, their kissing slows down, taking on a steady rhythm, and Cora pulls back as Stiles moves his mouth down her jaw to her neck. Stiles stops in his tracks when she pulls back, and is about to ask if she wants to stop when, suddenly, she reaches for the hem of her shirt again, not toying with it this time, but instead lifting it off in one fluid motion. His mouth falls open at the sight, and Cora smirks, grabbing at his as well and ripping it off. Still smirking at the shock on Stiles’s face, Cora pushes him down onto the bed, lowering herself on top of him.

Taking the lead, she kisses Stiles deeply, her tongue slowly tracing its way through his mouth, teeth raking sinfully slow across his bottom lip as she pulls back and begins pressing hot, open mouthed kisses down his jaw, neck, and chest. She takes her time at his collarbone, sucking, biting, and licking a mark into the hollows of it before working her way down to playfully bite at his nipples, laughing softly at the keening sounds that seem to be ripped out of Stiles.

Still smiling softly, Cora continues pressing soft kisses down Stiles’s abdomen, stopping when she reaches the waistband of his jeans. Her hand hovers above the button and zipper, wondering for a moment if they’re really going to take it this far. Stiles seems to sense her unease, and takes her hand in his, stopping her worrying.

“Hey. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” he says softly.

Cora’s eyes find his, and she sees the honesty there, along with the awe, as if he’s still disbelieving that this is happening. Suddenly, being with Stiles seems like the only thing in the world that makes sense. Her hands make quick work of the button and zipper, and she starts to pull them down before stopping suddenly.

“Do you have a condom?” she asks bluntly.

Stiles’s mouth gapes slightly, and she makes the mental comparison between him and a goldfish. “I...yeah. Yeah, hang on.” Pants unbuttoned and partially lowered, Stiles jumps off the bed and rushes to his backpack to dig out his wallet. As he does so, Cora climbs further onto the bed, quickly shucking off her pants and hesitating only slightly before unclipping her bra as well.

When Stiles turns back to the bed, he nearly falls down where he stands. Cora is leaning back against the headboard, hands tying her hair up behind her head, chest exposed, long legs stretched out in front of her. She looks up and sees Stiles standing stock still and staring and lets out a giggle.

“Well, come on. Take off your pants, get over here.” With a coy smile, she crooks her finger at him, beckoning. Stiles walks over to the bed, kicking off his jeans, slowly climbing up and crawling toward Cora. She’s still smiling when he leans down to kiss her, and he can feel her smile as their lips slowly slot into place, their kisses as refined as if they’d been doing this for years. As the kiss deepens, her hands find his and place them on her bare chest, squeezing softly over them, showing him what to do and where to touch before letting go and letting him take control.

His hands tenderly knead at her breasts, and he breaks the kiss, moving his mouth slowly down her neck before closing his mouth over her left breast, his right hand still softly caressing her right. He licks, sucks, and nips, feeling her nipple harden under his touch before moving over to do the same to her other breast. Cora has fallen almost completely silent, save for the small mewls escaping her lips. Her chest is heaving, partially due to her laboured breathing, and partially from her pushing her breasts more firmly against Stiles.

After a few minutes, Cora lightly pushes Stiles’s head up, her fingers gripping his hair lightly, tugging him gently up toward her so she can kiss him again. This time he’s the one smiling into it, and again, her hands find his, guiding them down her body. She guides them all the way down to her pantyline, sliding one of his hands beneath the elastic band, down through the damp curls and between the wet lips. Her fingers stay over his as she slowly pushes his hand down, taking one of his fingers and helping him push it slowly into her. They’ve stopped kissing, foreheads pressed together, breath mingling in heavy pants, and Cora pulls her hand out of her underwear, focusing instead on the pleasant pressure of Stiles's fingers inside her as he adds a second, twisting them as he pulls and pushes them.

He’s slowly working up a rhythm -- in, two beats, out -- and she matches it with her hips. She stops bucking against him a few moments later as she tentatively slips her hand beneath the waistband of his boxers and grips his cock, running her hand over it softly, squeezing experimentally. She knows she’s done something right when Stiles’s fingers stutter in their pattern. He pulls his forehead away from hers and leans his body away, pulling his fingers out of her and stepping off the bed, ridding himself of his boxers before tugging her panties off as well.

Pausing a moment, he takes every inch of the image before him in, Cora stark naked on his bed, sweat shining on her forehead, chest tinged pink, legs spread and vulva glistening. He smiles, looking up at her, and finds she’s smiling as well, twirling the condom he grabbed earlier between her fingers. With a huffed laugh, he takes it from her, carefully opening it and unrolling it onto himself. He climbs back onto the bed fully, and stops, kneeling between her legs.

“Should I just...do I just...”

“Stiles,” Cora says sternly, yet entirely softly. “Relax. You won’t break me.”

“Are you sure?”

Cora laughs, really laughs, and sits up, kissing Stiles gently before placing chaste kisses on his temples and cheeks. “Trust me, Stiles," she says softly before whispering, "I trust you.”

She kisses him again, turning them around so she’s back on top of him, and she slowly reaches down to take him in her grip before guiding the tip of his cock into her, slowly, slowly, slowly. She hisses at the breach, but continues to lower herself down onto him, stopping when she’s taken all of him in. At some point, her eyes scrunched shut, so she finds herself opening them back up, taking in the sight of Stiles below her. His hands are splayed on her thighs, trembling slightly, and his face is scrunched in what looks like half concentration and half pure pleasure.

Gingerly, Cora cants her hips up, sliding up Stiles’s cock slowly, her walls clenching at the loss of pressure before she slides back down him. She’s breathing hard, focusing intently on her actions, and Stiles is groaning, uttering choked off words, half-phrases, and curses. It feels a little intrusive for the first few movements, but slowly, Cora adjusts to the feel of Stiles inside of her. Once she does, she picks up speed, canting her hips up-down-up-down-up-down. Stiles lets out something near a shout, a curse and her name all in one breath.

“Fuck _Cora_!”

His hands move from where they’re pressed into her thighs and grip at her hips instead, pushing her up as she moves herself, his hips canting up with her so she’s never really pulled off of him. They carry on like this for what feels like it could be seconds -- or maybe it’s years -- Cora holding herself up with one hand splayed on Stiles’s chest, her other hand working furious circles around her clit. With a shout of Stiles’s name, her walls contract around Stiles and she feels her every nerve alight with pleasure. Stiles follows her into sated bliss moments later, his hips still canting mercilessly against her, crying out her name around a choked moan.

Slowly, he stops bucking his hips, and lets his hands fall from her waist, fluttering gently at her thighs, stroking soft patterns. After a few moments, Cora eases herself off of him, and he rolls over to remove the condom, tying it off and tossing it in his trash can below his bed. He rolls back onto the bed, tugging the covers out from under them and pulling them up while also pulling Cora close, positioning his arm around her, allowing her to use his chest as a pillow. He presses a soft kiss to the top of her head and smiles.

“I definitely did not see this coming,” he says softly.

Cora laughs, and Stiles can feel the vibrations of it against him. “Neither did I. I really just came here to say thank you. And then I saw you and I just...wanted.”

“Well, I’m glad you did. But I have to admit...I’m a little afraid of what your brother might do to me when he finds out,” Stiles says with a laugh.

“He’ll threaten you, growl a lot, probably toss in something about ripping your throat out with his teeth.”

“Ah, yes, my favorite Hale threat.”

They laugh softly and wiggle around a little bit more, finding that perfect position before sighing contentedly, almost in unison. Stiles begins drifting to sleep, the way he always does after he comes, but can tell Cora is still wide awake, almost tense.

“Hey,” he whispers, kissing her temple. “Go to sleep, relax. You’re safe here.”

“I know,” she replies, all tenseness leaving her. “I’m always safe with you.”


End file.
